A Happy Song
by Cearta Day
Summary: A look into Matt and TK's brotherhood throughout the years. One-shot


So the last part doesn't really work in canon but it would in my rewrite so…

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My little brother used to steal my harmonica every day.

I'd come home from school to the sound of sharp, screechy notes. That was my cue to rush inside and find him because once he took it he would always try and hide. It took him awhile to figure out that it wasn't that I was good at seeking, but his stolen item's supposed "music" that always gave him away.

And that's exactly what he called his unsteady wheezy breaths between the metal. Music.

Once I found him it was always the same question, and each time there would be less guilt weaved into his words. "Did you like that song, Matt?"

I used to be furious at this point wondering where he got the nerve to take my prized possession, but overtime my anger had melted leaving behind a simple and soggy reply.

"Did you like your song, TK?"

At this point he'd scrunch up his nose and really mull it over. My brother was always honest, sometimes too honest.

"It was better than what you played for me last night. Your song was too quiet and sad."

"It was quiet because we were both supposed to be in bed. Did you want to wake Mom and Dad?"

His big blue eyes were on me now. To this day his loaded gaze could still shake me. His eyes expressed everything he felt but could never put into words, and I could read them like a book. Whenever I spoke of our parents his look revealed longing and uncertainty and perhaps a bit of love.

"No, they'd just finished for the night."

He meant finished fighting and yelling over the bills or this morning's burnt toast, but neither of us liked to say that aloud.

"But," he continued, "I like songs that are exciting and make you feel better, not sad songs. Why don't you ever play happy songs, Matt?"

"I don't know, TK, but if you put my harmonica back where you found it I'll take you to the park."

At this point, he'd hop or crawl out of that day's hiding spot, search the entire coat closet for his favorite green tennis shoes, and we'd race to see who could get to the big cherry blossom tree in the center of the park first. I usually let him win unless he'd eaten too much sugar that day and needed to be taken down a notch.

_Why don't you ever play happy songs, Matt?_

But I did play him a happy song. Maybe not when he used to ask me that, but I have since then. It was during that summer where I'd learned that friendship and even a bit of adventure could do me some good. It was at what I knew was one of my brother's lowest points. Our group, that he'd somehow become very attached to, had split up leaving only us.

He was always doing that, clinging on too tight, putting too much faith in people. No matter how our parents had betrayed him or even how I'd lashed out at him in the past, he always believed there was good in every person. One has to wonder how such a small boy had such hope.

"Matt? Matt, I'm scared. I can't sleep…. Could you help me?" I can still hear his pleading clearly in my head, like he thought his suggestion would disgust me, and I'd refuse.

The only reason I hesitated before accepting was because I'd met his eyes. Tears framed his blue irises that showed his fear of not just the last beast we'd encountered but of abandonment and rejection.

"Of course I'll help you, TK, but I don't think you should be sleeping right now."

He scanned the black sky above trying to find if there was something he'd missed. "But it's nighttime."

"Not for us." I grinned and nudged my digital friend awake. My brother, always so optimistic and upbeat, needed some cheering up, so I took out my harmonica and played a tune that was fast-paced and chaotic and if I dare say so had a bit of twang to it.

His reaction was almost instant. An uncertain but amused smile graced his lips, and he laughed from how absurd it was that his cynical, negative brother was producing such music. He took Gabumon by the claw and hollered for Patamon to join in. They danced until they were too tired and resigned to just coming up with funny lyrics to match my tune, and when they were even too tired to do that they just sat and listened. TK's smile never faltered, and that was worth the toll on my lungs from playing all night.

_Could you help me?_

It used to be so easy to please him. He was such a hopeful child, and I could always banish away any troubles he had with just my harmonica or, if the situation was dire, my original hot chocolate and ice cream float blend. Despite the many times we'd drank the mixture, only once had my brother actually requested it. He'd been about driving age but lacked a car. We had sat in my kitchen, me in plaid pajama pants and a stained t-shirt, him soaked to the bone and shivering despite having been out of the rain for a good half hour now.

He'd asked me that morning if I could take him to Kyoto, something about Oikawa and a portal opening up. I'd outright refused and reprimanded him. Oikawa was too dangerous, too unpredictable especially if TK intended to go without his team. Who knew what went through that psycho's head.

Since I wouldn't take him he hitchhiked, and once there he ran into not just Oikawa but a whole team of grown digidestined who'd just acquired a digimon. On top of that, there were a few policemen around who wanted to know what all the commotion was about. There's something special about Kyoto that only lets certain people see the digimon that walk around the spiritual city.

I still don't know everything that happened to him that day. All I know is I got a call at 3:28 in the morning from my brother who—in the smallest, weakest voice I've ever had to listen to—asked if I could come pick him up at a gas station just outside Kyoto. I'd agreed without a fight, and once there he'd climbed into my car without a word. I'd stayed equally as silent as I handed him a towel. It was raining hard and had been for hours.

We hadn't spoken the whole ride back. I was afraid of breaking my brother even more when he was so fragile, and yes, my words would've broken him. All my thoughts were harsh and resentful. He hadn't listened to me, and it ended up hurting him.

Finally after his shivering had mostly ceased and he could lift his head from the kitchen table, TK spoke with little emotion behind his words.

"You were right."

I watched him from my spot leaning against the counter, arms crossed. My voice was surprisingly quite like I was trying to be gentle, but my words came out so harsh that any chance of that was ruined.

"Yeah, I was. What were you thinking?"

There was a long pause before his reply that I probably should've picked up on. "That we need to stop running away all the time and fight."

"'We'? TK, 'we' didn't do anything. You went alone without your team to a city you've never been to. What did you think was gonna happen? Oikawa would just stop whatever he was doing and surrender 'cause some kid showed up? Do you know anything about the real world? He's not a digimon; you can't just kill him and be done with it, but you know what? He'd sure as hell do that to you."

A bit of defiance leaked into his voice, but it was still quiet and uncertain. "I said you were right."

"That doesn't matter now! You should've known that before!" I couldn't control my anger. He'd just endangered the only person who I'd stay up at odd hours playing a harmonica for, who I'd drive across town on my day off work for, who I'd spent my whole life protecting.

"Well… I didn't," he finished weakly. He tugged the towel draped on his shoulders and refused to meet my eyes.

"You're not Mom," he continued, "I don't need you reading me the riot act."

"Then please, TK, tell me what you do need because obviously you think you know better than everyone else."

His eyes shot up to me, and I nearly wavered back. They showed defeat and sorrow and a self-doubt that I'd never seen from him. I searched for any signs of hope but none were visible.

"I need you! You always say the right thing. I need my brother, not another parent."

Is that really what I was doing? I was parenting him? When had I started taking such authority over him? Probably around the time I'd stopped relying on my parent's completely. Maybe I'd decided that I didn't trust them to take care of TK either.

His eyes were back on the table. "I-I don't know what to do."

I sighed and with the breath a bit of anger melted away too. "And I should?"

"You always have before. Please, Matt-"

"What do you want me to tell you, TK?" My voice was no longer harsh but still told of a harsh reality. "That this is alright, that we'll get through this? I don't know that. You're the one who just has so much faith in our team. I'm not going to lie to you."

"I wouldn't want you to. Just… could you make the blend or something?"

I blinked at the simplicity of his request. He didn't want empty promises or hollow reassurance. He wanted a distraction, a comforting moment.

I wasn't expected to scare away monsters or fix our family or end all his doubts. I was supposed to be there for him, go through these things with him and let him know he wasn't alone. That's all a brother is, and maybe that's enough.

I nodded slightly, the smallest of smiles on my lips as I turned to retrieve the ice cream from the freezer.

"Of course, Kid."

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Thank you for reading :)


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